Category Archives: 1933 Films

42nd Street-1933

42nd Street-1933

Director Lloyd Bacon

Starring Warner Baxter, Ruby Keeler, Bebe Daniels

Scott’s Review #1,281

Reviewed July 28, 2022

Grade: A-

Whenever I watch a film made in the 1930s, I am reminded of cinema’s vastness and blossoming.

Filmmakers could do unique things back then, having very little of what filmmakers have in the modern day for technology’s sake.

I’ve heard it said that films of the 1930s are dated and dusty, the acting style is different, and the musical scores always have a standard sound. I find them like little presents beckoning to be opened to escape to another time, long ago.

The famous musical 42nd Street (1933) has been a Broadway stalwart since its debut. However, this is a falsehood since a stage adaptation of the film debuted on Broadway in 1980, winning two Tony Awards, including Best Musical.

Director Lloyd Bacon creates a slow and steady build to set the drama properly. The final thirty-five or forty minutes culminate in a lavish and fascinating extravaganza of the gala show opening.

All in all, events transpire in a brisk one hour and twenty-nine minutes. If I’m honest, I could have done with another ten minutes of the merriment-laden conclusion.

I giggled with delight at the professionalism inhabiting unique cinematography sequences like a camera rolling through a dozen spread legs to land on a handsome young couple’s face.

The Great Depression Era is the focus in a timely fashion, and props go to all involved for emphasizing this dastardly time with an escapist show.

Revered and impatient Broadway director Julian Marsh (Warner Baxter) has fallen on hard times like the rest of the United States. His doctor warns him to care for his health, but his finances are dire.

He launches an ambitious musical as a final production before his retirement. The lead actress, bitchy Dorothy Brock (Bebe Daniels), is torn between two men, the show’s rich financer, Abner Dillon (Guy Kibbee), and struggling actor Pat Denning (George Brent).

Meanwhile, aspiring young performer Peggy Sawyer (Ruby Keeler) hopes for her big break. She is entirely green and impressionable but humorously looks similar to Dorothy, right down to their curled hairstyle.

It’s easy to see what direction the plot is going in, but instead of an All About Eve (1950) theater story of one actress scheming for the role of another actress, events happen organically.

The first portion of 42nd Street is all well and good. We get snippets of the women traversing amongst their male admirers, and Julian becomes increasingly frustrated with the incompetent talent, but I keep hoping events will finally take off.

The romantic triangles and irritated threats to fire the cast almost get repetitive until the spectacular second act.

When the company is reduced to the opening in Philadelphia, the dregs of society to them, instead of the bright lights of New York City, 42nd Street becomes a different type of film.

A magical and marvelous escapade of leggy performances, astounding costumes, and song and dance numbers emerges onto the big screen before my delighted eyes. It is startlingly like watching the production in real time.

The cherry on top was watching the petrified Peggy fill in for the injured Dorothy. Instead of the women continuing their feud, the older Dorothy gives Peggy a pep talk about how much the crowd wants to like her, and she has no reason to be nervous.

She’s got it, and Dorothy’s got her back.

The moment is filled with sweetness as the veteran passes the baton to the upstart. Dorothy’s words resonated with me as any entertainer, public speaker, or anyone else can take her advice to heart.

The musical numbers are cheery and robust, led by the toe-thumping title track, which I continue to hum along to while writing this review.

A gripe is that, according to legend, Julian is a gay character, but there is never a moment where the film implies this. A pleasant jolt would have been for him to at least flirt with a cast member.

Old-fashioned has rarely felt better because 42nd Street (1933) provides enough flash, dance, and razzle-dazzle to make its audience harken back to the good old days of classic cinema.

There are even some words of wisdom to embrace.

Oscar Nominations: Best Picture, Best Sound

King Kong-1933

King Kong-1933

Director Merian C. Cooper, Ernest B. Schoedsack

Starring Fay Wray, Robert Armstrong

Scott’s Review #624

Reviewed March 11, 2017

Grade: A

The original, black-and-white 1933 version of King Kong (a few other remakes or reboots followed) is a masterful achievement in special effects never before done in film. It is also a great horror/adventure film that is timeless in its look and feel, capturing 1930s New York City, especially in majestic fashion.

Some of the dialogue and scenes are now dated or slightly racist, but the film still holds up well as an overall lesson in film exploration and is a treasure to watch again and again.

The film is a take on the classic tale Beauty and the Beast, sans the happy ending.

In the watery harbors of New York City, filmmaker Carl Denham (Robert Armstrong) prepares to embark, via ship, on a journey to film his latest picture.

Known for films about exotic wildlife, he has a film to end all movies in mind and, reluctantly, is talked into casting a female lead in the part. He scours the streets of New York City, finding broke and hungry Ann (Fay Wray)—a struggling actress unable to find work. She agrees to the role and heads off to a destination unknown.

Weeks later, he reveals to the crew that they are headed for Skull Island, a secret island known for pre-historic creatures and a beast only known as “Kong.”

Amid the voyage to the island, Ann and First Mate Jack Driscoll (Bruce Cabot) fall madly in love, giving the film a nice romantic slant along with the male-driven adventure story.

The adventure begins when the crew arrives at Skull Island to find a weird, ancient ritual marriage occurring among the tribal people. All hell breaks loose when the dangerous “King Kong” escapes from captivity and falls in love with Ann.

Mixed in with the story are enormous dinosaurs who destroy everything in their paths, including many of the men from the island and the film crew.

As I watched the film in 2017, not too far from 100 years after its incarnation, I often sat in wonderment, amazed at how the filmmakers achieved the luminous special effects throughout the second half of the film.

Given that the film is in black and white, the contrast between the dark, enormous ape (Kong) and the bright New York City and the majestic Empire State Building is prominently featured in the final, climactic act.

The scenes of a struggling Ann in King Kong’s hand seem flawless and believable. I marvel at how these scenes were shot and the enormous amount of effort it took to make them dramatic and not hokey-looking.

Since the film was made “pre-code”, several shocking scenes exist- when Kong rips off Ann’s clothes as she struggles in his palm and Kong’s stepping on and squashing men are featured sparing no graphic details.

In addition to the great adventure story of King Kong, there is also a tender love story and a bit of melancholy. King Kong is not so much a dangerous creature; instead, he has fallen in love with Ann and serves as her protector.

He is a scared animal, chained and confined, and subsequently shown to a stuffy Broadway crowd as entertainment—he becomes angry. I find Kong to be a sympathetic, misunderstood character. Because the human beings in the story are frightened, he becomes their enemy. He adores Ann and would not harm her in any way, but he is perceived as vicious, which he is not.

It can be argued who the real villain of the story is. Would it not have been filmmaker Carl, intent on exploiting King Kong and gaining profit from it? Is it the tribe people who keep Kong locked up, or is it for their protection?

My favorite scene is the climax of the film. After taking Ann from a hotel room, he scales the Empire State Building and is pursued by four military airplanes.

When he sets Ann down on the rooftop ledge, he battles the planes, only to sadly topple down to the ground- dead. As he swipes at the aircraft and succumbs to gunshot wounds, it is a sad and powerful scene.

King Kong (1933) is a legendary film. Audiences will empathize with the “villain” of the story, be impressed by the technical nuances, and enjoy the conventional and unconventional love stories presented.

One thing is sure: King Kong is one of the most influential films ever made.